Falling Apart at 45

I'm falling apart. I'm going to the doctor this morning because I'm falling apart. This literal and metaphorical falling apart started Friday.

On Friday I trimmed my toenails, with the idea that I would paint them Saturday morning. While sitting with my feet up and I looked down and saw that one of my toenails, a couple of hours POST trimming, was bubbled up like a turtle shell. I mumbled an expletive and reached down to touch it.

AND IT FELL OFF. Now I am toenail-less on that toe. It didn't hurt. It was just odd. It still doesn't hurt.

The same thing happened on two more toes the next morning. Falling apart I tell you.

Sunday came and my blood sugar dropped out of nowhere. I was getting the kids breakfast ready when the hollow ears, melty dizzy feeling started, and before I could even get food in my mouth, I broke out into a raging sweat and started shaking. It took me way to long to recover. It happened again yesterday at work, and despite checking my blood sugar at work about an hour after scarfing something down, I was 115 but still felt like hell. I never shook that bad "other wordly" feeling.

I have another problem. We're not even going to talk about that one, THAT'S how bad it is.

So I'm going to my new doctor and she's going to check all sorts of things out on me today.

Someone I work with suggested it was menopause. I suppose it could be but I'm going to cry for about a day if it is. I'm still not ready. You can't make me go through the change you can't!

But I'm going because at 45 I don't want to drop dead due to not checking out warning signs and hell toenails falling off are surely a warning sign of SOMETHING.



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